Realms of Infamy - James Lowder [144]
As before, the big half-human avoided most obstacles in his path, winding his way around them with unusual care. If he stumbled, he caught his balance gracelessly but quickly. I wondered whether the gods had made Zeth insane and his eyes simply invisible, or if it was all an elaborate trick, something Skralang thought up to test me. I thought of Zeth staring at me that morning, and a tightness grew in my stomach.
I was growing used to the mindlessness of the situation-a company of goblins led by a blind madman-but I saw its dangers as well. The warriors grumbled among themselves, and some began to treat the outing as a farce. They walked with weapons sheathed, laughed at private jokes, pushed and shoved one another in line.
I did not let this go on long. I dropped back among the file and located one of the worst offenders, who had fallen earlier and scraped his knees and hands. As he complained about the pain for the third time, I pulled the lash from my belt and struck him.
The lash caught him full across the face, just below the eyes. Before he could cry out, the lash came back and snapped across his back like a brand of fire. His cry was cut off by his intake of breath at the second hit, and he fell to his knees, hands covering his face.
The column behind him stopped, but at a gesture from me, continued on around him. I waited with the warrior as the column filed past. After a few moments, he regained his feet and picked up his weapon. I watched as he stumbled on to catch up with the column.
I followed, ensuring that the message had gotten through. It had. Silence was kept thereafter, and weapons were held at the ready.
We marched on for only three hours when Zeth abruptly slowed his pace, head turned to one side, and stopped. The scout behind him looked back at me questioningly. I came forward.
"There they are," said Zeth, pointing ahead. "We must begin our teaching."
I looked ahead and noticed a faint light. We were about two miles from a small community that sat astride the cart path to our left. I detected no sign of any military activity, but that meant little. Enemy warriors could be concealed anywhere and had time to prepare a bloody welcome.
"We are safe," said Zeth carelessly. He was smiling again and wasn't breathing as heavily as the night before. "They don't know we're here."
"How would you know?" I asked under my breath. I gave a hand signal for the troops to stay low and keep silent. Before I could do more, Zeth turned to me and grabbed my shoulder, pulling me close to him. I was too surprised to resist.
His breath was visible in the cool night air. "Gather the villagers together. They will not resist. I wish to begin teaching before the night has passed. Our people should gather around and learn wisdom, too." He released me and sat on the ground with a thump, not moving from that spot.
I stared at him, then looked across the dark field. Gather the villagers up for Zeth to teach them? His grandfather had ordered me to obey the mad one as if he were one of the gods. Perhaps the gods would spare me for my obedience if any disaster fell, but I no longer believed it. I obeyed but felt I was as mad as Zeth to do it.
I left the scout with Zeth while I went back and collected the rest of the troops. Moments later, we moved on to the sleeping village.
The attack was over almost as soon as it had begun. Many of the halflings were in their beds when we set fire to their barns. As they rushed out, half-dressed and clutching blankets and buckets, they were shot by our archers. Many were clubbed down and herded together on the road as others of us torched the houses. Some fought back with farm implements-pitchforks, shovels, hammers. Those we killed. The dogs were more trouble than the villagers.
We forced the survivors-about three dozen males, females, and children-to strip and stand naked in the night wind. Warriors surrounded them and amused themselves by prodding bare skin with their spears, laughing and betting as to which of the little people